


We Three Mariners

by mfirebird



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur should stop antagonizing his brother in camp, Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Established Relationship, M/M, Mending Relationships, Protective Arthur Morgan, Secret Relationship, but he doesn’t want to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:13:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29579391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mfirebird/pseuds/mfirebird
Summary: Arthur has plans for a fishing trip with a certain someone, but gets forced into bringing his brother along.
Relationships: John Marston & Arthur Morgan, Kieran Duffy & Arthur Morgan, Kieran Duffy/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	We Three Mariners

**Author's Note:**

> In which John third wheels on a date without knowing it, Kieran has the patience of a saint, and Arthur’s kind of an asshole (but we love him anyways).
> 
> I really like writing dialogue for these three so prepare for a lot of that.

“Arthur! Arthur, hold up.” Arthur stops and looks up at Hosea approaching him. He’d been packing provisions into his saddlebag. Enough for almost a week, with some extra food in case his traveling companion didn’t pack enough. “I need you to do me a favor.”

“‘Course. What is it?” he says, putting the last can away. He takes out a cigarette. He expects Hosea to ask him to find something for him while he’s out. A mystery novel or some fresh herbs or a new penny dreadful for Jack. He does not expect the next words that come out of his mouth.

“You’re going on that fishing trip, right? I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you,” He pauses to cough into his fist. Arthur pats his back. “Could ya bring John with you?”

“Marston?! Why?”

“Yes, John Marston, glad you know him. And because I’m sick and tired of seeing you two at each other’s throats all the time. All this bad blood between you two. Maybe it can’t be fixed. Fine. But you need to at least be civil with each other. The two of you have been fighting like cats and dogs the past few weeks any time you’re in camp.”

Arthur scoffs “He knows I’m just joking.”

Hosea gives him a strained expression, possibly thinking of a few days earlier when John had gotten so fed up he’d socked Arthur in the face and knocked him flat on his back. “Just. Tell him to come with you. I’ve already talked to him. Dutch and I think it might be good for the two of you to spend some time together. Work through some of this stuff.”

Arthur wants to give in to Hosea, if only to make him not look so stressed. He didn’t personally hold much concern for his and John’s relationship anymore, but he wasn’t too good at saying no to his father figure.

He still sees fit to protest a bit more, though it feels like a losing battle at this point. “I’ve already got a fishing buddy. Duffy’s coming with me.” 

“You can make room. The more the merrier I always say.” His eyes soften into a pleading look. “The two of you are _brothers_ , Arthur. Like it or not, you still are. Life’s too short to stay mad at family.” 

Arthur sighs in annoyance. He leans around Hosea to see John, sitting dejectedly at the domino table several yards away, smoking and glaring off into the distance. “Marston!” he barks, “Pack your bag you’re going fishing.”

John’s lip curls into a scowl, but he grinds his cigarette under his heel and goes to grab some stuff from the wagons. Hosea pats his shoulder and smiles gratefully. Arthur gives him a weary look, but he just walks off. Old man sure knew how to play him like a fiddle. Arthur’d bet good money he only wanted them out if camp so he could get some peace and quiet to read his book. 

John comes by and saddles up Old boy, still scowling. “Well? We going?”

“Hold up. I’ve gotta get Kieran.”

John raises an eyebrow “We’re taking the O’driscoll with us?” 

“Well I invited him first so if anything, he’s taking you.” 

John gives him a narrow stare and hunches his shoulders. Arthur just turns and goes to retrieve Duffy from the scout fire. Grown man or not, John could still act like a petulant teenager at the best of times.

Kieran takes the extra company in stride, not thinking much of it. He seems to pick up on the fact that Arthur’s not too happy about it, though he doesn’t pry. Marston could learn a thing or two from him about not being annoying. 

Kieran swings up into his saddle first, Arthur and John follow. The three make their way out of camp. Arthur nods to Charles on their way out, giving him a small smile and a wave, which he returns.

Just before they get on the road Arthur goes over the map with Kieran, points out where they’re going, where they might camp, what paths they’ll take. John tries to look from over his shoulder. Arthur rolls the map back up.

Ever since catching that bluegill, Arthur had been getting Kieran’s help with collecting legendary fish. They’d started planning this little fishing venture weeks ago after Arthur got word of a huge fish up in O’Creagh’s Run. It was just going to be the two of them, but now that Arthur finally had the time for it he’s suddenly stuck lugging John along with them.

Kieran doesn’t seem to mind much, just happy to get out of camp. He chats with both Arthur and John, ignoring the tension between the two. 

Arthur talks with Kieran as they ride. John keeps mostly quiet, knowing any comment he makes will likely be met with barbs or sarcasm. He notices how Kieran chats happily with Arthur, now taking his jokes and teases in stride, a stark contrast to the sniveling skittish man who flinched at all of his cruel humor just months ago. John tries to ignore the fierce sting of jealousy over the fact that Arthur is now better friends with an O’driscoll than with him. Part of him thinks Arthur might just be playing up his kinship with the kid to get under John’s skin, but the way Arthur laughs at something he says, so earnestly, like John isn’t even there, tells him otherwise.

He’d never really paid attention to the two or what they got up to together, didn’t really even notice they were friends now. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He can’t recall the last time Arthur had laughed like that with him… Who is he kidding, he doesn’t think he’s ever made him laugh like that, unless it was at his expense. 

A lull in the conversation prompts Arthur to look back at him. “What’s got you so glum, Marston? If you really didn’t wanna come you could’ve just told Hosea.”

Kieran pointedly keeps his eyes on the path ahead of them, looking like he doesn’t wanna be caught in the middle of whatever’s going on between them. Much like a skittish animal, the kid had a knack for sensing storms.

There are a few ways he could’ve responded. He chooses the more civil route. “You know Hosea.” he says, “Changing his mind is like asking a dog to stop eating meat.”

Arthur snorts, “Master of metaphors over here.” He says to Kieran. The former O’driscoll looks caught between wanting to laugh or not. On one hand, he clearly doesn’t want to offend John, on the other, he probably craves Arthur’s approval like nothing else. 

John doesn’t rise to the bait. He just stays quiet and keeps on ambling a few steps behind them, giving Old Boy a pat on the neck.

•••

Late afternoon bleeds into evening as they ride past Valentine. John feels his stomach rumble. He cranes his neck as they pass the main street, looking at the saloon longingly. “We ain’t stopping in town?” 

“Hell no,” Arthur snorts, “We’ve still got daylight left to burn. We'll camp up in the Grizzlies when we get closer, catch some food for dinner.”

Kieran seems amicable to this idea, he throws John a small smile and a shrug. John just feels like sulking. He turns to Morgan, whose back is to him as he trots along the path ahead of him. “You and your hunting. Don’t you ever get sick of it?”

“Do I get sick of... eating? No, not particularly.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Ah, did you mean ‘do I get sick of being able to take care of myself out in the wilderness’? Or ‘being able to provide for the gang’? Or maybe ‘putting food in the bellies of you and your kid most nights’?”

“Alright, alright! I get it.” He slumps in his saddle. 

Kieran scans the trees around him. He starts whistling after a few moments in silence.

“Arthur, you been up this way before?” he pipes up eventually 

“Sure.” 

“Mm. What about you, John? You ever made it up to the Grizzlies?”

John pauses, “No. Ain’t been much farther North than Valentine since we got out of Colter.” 

“Yeah, reckon it gets real cold up here. Still, can’t be as bad as freezin’ up in those mountains. Heh, I still get nightmares about waking up in that shed surrounded by frozen horse piss.” 

John winces “Uh, yeah. Sorry about that, I guess. If Arthur hasn’t told you already.”

Kieran backtracks “Oh. No, I didn’t mean. Uh. W-well. Thank you. For saying so.” 

John nods. He blows a sigh from his nose. Kieran brings his attention back to Arthur. “You… think we’ll see any bears?”

“Might. Hosea and I saw a huge one when we went hunting here a while back. Monstrous thing, bout twice my height. You should’ve seen Hosea running from that thing.” He says with laughter in his voice.

John finds himself actually drawn in by the story. From any other man he’d think it was just a load of exaggerated horsecrap, but Arthur didn’t tend to embellish all that much. No, he just had a tendency to actually run into crazy things.

Kieran’s eyes go wide. “Really?”

“Yeah, ain’t up here anymore though, don’t you worry. You see, he and I actually became real good friends, and now he goes everywhere I go.”

“What?” Kieran actually looks around. He looks back at Arthur, perplexed. Arthur laughs softly.

“I’m serious. Hang on, let me show you.” Arthur goes to dig through the clothing in his horse satchel. He takes his hat off and pulls out the bear hat, plopping it on his head. He turns to Kieran with a big smile on his face. John bursts into laughter.

“That has got to be the ugliest hat I have ever seen!” 

Arthur takes it and throws it at him. “Well you take it then. It matches your face.” 

Kieran is dying of laughter ahead of him. Arthur joins in, shoulders bouncing as he chuckles. John looks down at the scarred, disfigured face of the stuffed bear head and scowls at Arthur, which just has him laughing harder.

He gets no support from Kieran, who stifles his laughter and says, “Aw, c’mon you kinda set yourself up for that one.” 

John attempts to glare at him too, but it breaks into a smile and he rolls his eyes. Arthur gives Kieran a hardy pat on the back that sends him forward in the saddle.

•••

They make camp a few hours later. John builds a fire, Kieran heads off to the river with his pole, and Arthur pitches the tents. Arthur pauses just as he’s starting in on the third one and looks up at John.

“Y’know you could be going to get us some dinner instead of sitting there doing nothing.”

“I finished my job! I thought Kieran was supposed to get food.” 

“Fishing for three people ain’t gonna be quick. You could be going to bag us a rabbit or something. But nah, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I can see you’re exhausted from starting that measly fire.” Arthur pounds a stake into the ground with more force than necessary. 

John stands up and stalks off, leaving Arthur alone and at peace finally. He probably should have just made John do his own tent and gone off to hunt himself. Now whatever rodent John brings back is probably gonna have five bullet holes in it, but oh well. He finishes pitching John’s tent and goes to sit by the fire.

Kieran comes back a while later, carrying three good sized fish from the river.

“That was quick.” Arthur says, putting the arrows he was crafting back in his satchel.

“Told ya I’m a good fisherman.” He hands the fish off to Arthur, who takes out some metal cookware from his things and starts to fillet them one by one. Kieran sits by his side and rubs his hands together near the fire. “Where’s John?”

“Told him to go find us a rabbit or something. Didn’t know you’d catch us a whole dinner by yourself in less than an hour.”

Kieran blushes. “Ain’t hard. That cricket bait you got me works like a charm.” He pats his thigh twice, then scoots closer so their arms are pressed up against each other.

Arthur smiles, but doesn’t look up from what he’s doing. “I should probably go get John soon.”

“Yeeeeeah, probably…” He acquiesces. Still, he leans in and kisses the corner of Arthur’s mouth, just because he can.

As he pulls back Arthur turns and gives him a real peck on the lips. He balls his hand up in the fabric over Arthur’s bicep and pulls him closer. 

“Sorry we ain’t gonna be alone for this trip.” Arthur whispers.

“It’s fine.” He pulls him in for one more kiss, then lets him go. He has to stop before he gets too excited. “Still nice spending time with you. “ he pats his bicep, “I’m mostly happy getting to be out of camp.” 

“Camp ain’t so bad.”

“Nah, but it’s been ages since I got to do something real fun like go on a fishing trip with someone,” He looks up at the warming lights of the sky as the sun dips below the horizon “Must be amazing, having all this freedom all the time.”

Arthur chuckles and wipes his knife and hands with a rag. “Ya got me there. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.” Then he rethinks. “Well… I don’t know.”

“What?”

“Nuthin’... It’s stupid.” He stands, but Kieran catches his hand.

When he hears crunching leaves nearby in the forest he quickly yanks his hand away at just the same time Arthur does. He turns toward the sound 

“Well, look what the raccoon dragged in.”

“Hilarious, Morgan.” John deadpans. He carries a muskrat over his shoulder, and lo and behold it only has three bullet holes in it.

“Strange looking rabbit.”

“Couldn’t find no rabbit.” He throws the poor carcass down at Arthur’s feet.

“Well, lucky for you Kieran got enough fish so we don’t have to eat that.”

John throws his hands up, “So I got it for nothing?!”

Arthur laughs “Are you saying you actually tried? I thought this was you being passive aggressive.”

John grumbles at the ground. 

Arthur cooks the fish with some salt and fresh herbs. They eat by the fire as the last lights fade from the day. Kieran pours complements over his cooking, and even John begrudgingly agrees. Arthur nods his thanks. 

Eventually, Kieran yawns and tells them he’s going to hit the hay. He retires to the tent Arthur set up for him, carrying his bedroll in, and leaves the two of them to their devices. He lays down, and hopes to hear them talk or something, but all he hears is silence until Arthur gets up and climbs in his own tent between Kieran’s and John’s.

A couple hours pass with only the sounds of crickets and an occasional owl call to fill the night air. A chill settles into Kieran’s bones. He contemplates sneaking into Arthur’s tent, debating if he can be quiet enough to not wake John. 

When another shiver wracks his body he slips out of his bedroll and exits the tent, only to find John still sitting by the fire. John looks up at him, so Kieran goes to sit with him, acting like that was his plan all along. He starts to warm his hands near the fire.

The two of them pass some time talking. John apologizes, saying he feels he hasn’t been too nice to the former O’driscoll. Kieran says he appreciates it, tells him he’s not nearly as bad as some others in camp. He laughs along with John quietly as he makes a joke about Bill. 

Kieran tells him it’s nice having friends in camp. He wasn’t all that close with anyone in the O’driscolls gang, hasn’t really had a friend since his gang before that. They all died. John doesn’t really know what to say to that.

“Don’t uh, take this the wrong way, but it’s kind of surprising seeing you and Arthur so close. I mean, the man didn’t even want you in the gang after you saved his life.”

“Yeah we’ve uh. been gettin’ closer. Spending more time together.” 

“Hm. Lucky.” He takes a sip from the whiskey he brought with him. He really didn’t understand that man sometimes. Arthur’s moods could be fickle. His attitudes towards people followed no logical pattern in John’s mind. But really, what business was it of his who he chooses to spend his time with?

“What about you two?” Kieran pipes up. John looks up at him. “I mean, you’ve been friends for a long time haven’t you?”

John glares back down at the dirt darkly “Yeah.”  
friends. Supposed to be more than that. Sure, maybe they used to get on each other’s nerves a lot, but they also used to be each other’s favorite person. Used to spend so much time together. The first sibling he ever had, Arthur was his hero, loath as he was to ever admit it. He’d looked up to him, tried to emulate him at every turn. He’d respected his opinion, seeked his approval, hung on his every word. Now he has no idea where they stand. There’s this barrier up between them, a gap he has no idea how to bridge. Arthur Morgan has a long memory, and he doesn’t forgive easily.

Kieran looks like he wants to skirt around this topic, not sure if he wants to poke at obvious sore spots. At the same time, though, he is intensely curious about it. He also knows that, while his boldness has its risks, it was often the key to getting himself closer with the members of the gang. He pushes his anxiety aside. “The two of you seem uh. Well, you fight a lot in camp. Don’t think I’ve even seen Colm’s men get so nasty with each other.” He snickers a little awkwardly “He never had much patience for that… Anyways, are things... alright between you two? Not that it’s any of my business.” he hastily adds the last part, averting his gaze towards the ground.

John wants to brush him off at first, but he takes another gulp of whiskey and sighs. “...I don’t know. I don’t really know... how to get through to him.” 

Kieran looks sympathetic at his admission, John suddenly wishes he’d kept his mouth shut. Kieran looks like he’s about to reply, but John just corks the bottle, puts it in Kieran’s hands, pushes himself up, and mutters about getting to bed as he turns to leave.

“O-oh ok. Goodnight, Mister.”

“...Night, Kieran.”

John retires to his tent. Kieran looks back at where Arthur’s tent is set up. He sits out there a while longer, takes a gulp of whiskey for himself, wincing as it burns in his throat. 

When he’s pretty sure that John has probably gone to sleep by now, he gets up and quietly opens the flap of Arthur’s tent. Arthur starts to stir, and Kieran shushes him as he gets closer.

“It’s just me,” he whispers in his ear and curls up next to him. Arthur relaxes, wraps an arm around his back and curls a hand into his hair. After a moment he wakes up enough to scoot over and make room for him on the bedroll. Kieran gratefully worms his way under the blanket to sap up Arthur’s body heat.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m enjoying exploring the dynamic between these three. 
> 
> Leave a comment and I’ll love you forever.


End file.
